Of Burnt Badgermoles and Broken Dragons
by Fruipit
Summary: Azula never expected to leave the asylum; she never, ever expected anyone to care enough about her. But that's not the reason–it can't be. No one cares about her, and no one ever will. It makes no difference to her where she rots. [AzulaxToph] Spread the love, people :3 almost *5k* views! Reviews are appreciated (and definitely encourage me!)
1. Change

It was never expected that she would leave the asylum, but for some unfathomable reason, her brother– and she spits at the word–was convinced to allow her to be moved to the new city. That shining beacon of hope and harmony that made her want to rip at her eyes because she could not stand the brightness.

Azula held little hope for her own recovery (despite her own protests that she wasn't crazy), and even less for her surroundings. She wondered how much effort was put in to make it seem as though there was no effort at all.


	2. Bars

Azula expected a dull, damp cell, surrounded by bars in which she would be gawked at like an amusement show. It surprised her that there was no pomp or fanfare. She doubted that many of the people even knew who she was. Her move was a secret; so was she.

For three weeks, she was taken care of, the only difference between the cell and her room back at the Fire Nation Institution for the Criminally Insane being the view out of the tiny barred window. She anticipated the change, the drop in attention and care, and was not disappointed.


	3. Answers

For two days, she sat alone in the dark, eating whatever food it was that the guards threw at her. They were earthbenders; they hated her for crimes she never committed, and simply because they could–who would report them for torturing a war criminal who deserved to die, anyway? She was no longer the famed Princess of the Fire Nation. She was scum, worth no more than the dirt she slept on. She would scream out to the dark world pressing down, the anguish oftentimes too much for even her wretched soul to bear.

There was never any answer.


	4. Requests

It took Toph one visit to the institute before she agreed to take over the job of keeping an eye the former Fire Nation princess. Zuko made the solemn request after threats to, not his life, but Azula's.

There was no one he trusted more to protect those important to him, and while Toph had been nervous at first (because who _really_ wants an insane war criminal on their hands?), the hollow vibrations that rolled off the former prodigy was not the only thing that swayed the metalbender's mind; it was the memory of who she had been.


	5. Inhibit

Azula never received a visitor. Zuko had all but abandoned her to the desolate room; her screams terrified other prisoners until she was gagged. The burns on her cell only ceased when the chi shackles were placed on her wrists, inhibiting her.

The feeling brought back memories, painful recollections of the freak, the circus clown, and extending further and further as Azula fought to ignore it. She didn't want to remember, to know or imagine.

The only time she ever felt the need for company, and she was so removed from society that even the guards barely showed their face.


	6. Excursions

Occasionally, Toph would venture into the lower cells. She would stand, silently feeling the firebender as she sat in her cell and the cold slowly seeping into the pores of both women.

Toph never allowed Azula the knowledge that she was being watched; that her actions were being scrutinised.

These visits grew in frequency until Toph would barely go a day without casting her sight on the firebender. They would have continued, had she not accidentally made her presence known by use of a stray pebble.

Azula's confused cries, her questioning of ghosts, put an end to the metalbenders' excursions.


	7. Enemy

"Take her back."

Toph, who is usually blunt anyway, still managed to surprise Zuko as the Fire Lord stepped into her office.

"Umm..."

"Take her back. She doesn't belong here. She's not going to get better at all. We're a _police force_, for crying out loud. Not an institution."

Zuko regarded his blind friend a moment before shutting the door.

"I just don't think it's a good idea for her to be in the Fire Nation. Nothing can hurt her here, Toph."

She couldn't work up the courage to say that the most dangerous enemy to Azula, was Azula herself.


	8. Home

Toph had been keeping an eye and yet simultaneously ignoring the prisoner in the lower cells.

That had not been Azula's intended destination; while she was being moved, Zuko had the 'ingenious' solution that he could remove the expectations–and thus the insanity–from his sister by forcibly humbling her.

The private, lavish cell that had been prepared for the Fire Princess lay empty as she was shunned to the dank, disgusting, _unused_ maximum security cells.

Late at night, when she was alone in the office, Toph would sometimes just stop and think about the poor prisoner.

Someone had to.


	9. Progeny

Serenity was not something that came easily to the firebender. Meditation gave her no respite, and many days she merely slept away the hours, no other activities available to her.

She wasn't sure what was worse; the emptiness of her cell, or the memories in her mind.

Azula saw no one but the guards tasked with feeding her (the term used loosely). When opening her eyes to escape her mind, Azula wasn't sure what to do about the child standing just beyond the bars of her cell.

In her hands was a badge, and a furry plush toy; a badgermole.


	10. Visits

The visitor was back.

Mint green eyes peered at Azula through dark brown locks, and there was a little smile on her face. She sat just outside the cell, soft toy prancing along as she hummed.

"What's your name?"

The little voice interrupted her song, and Azula jumped in surprise. With a sneer, she ignored the question. The child leaned forward, placing the soft toy inside the bars.

"This is Terra. It means earth, according to my Mom. And it sounds fiercesome." Her hand released the toy, and she held it out to Azula in a small handshake.

"I'm Lin."


	11. Accepting

Sometimes, Toph hates being Chief of Police. She hates the long hours and grinding work. She hates having to be read every document (and paying someone to do it), and she certainly hates the criminals that waste her time.

But, that's not what she hates _the most_. Toph hates how her daughter accepts it all. She remembers that her own mother was barely there for her as a child, and she resented her for that. Does her own daughter feel the same?

Lin's happy laugh as she ran to her mother dispelled all such doubts.

"Momma!"

"Hello, my little badgermole..."


	12. Normal

A police station was no place for a six-year-old; even Lin recognised that fact. Then again, she wasn't a normal little girl.

The people were nicer than those at her school. Just because she didn't have a father didn't mean she was unsophisticated (a fact she disputed by earthbending the perpetrator onto the roof).

At the station, she often wandered around, talking to the officers; they were entertaining, and it meant she could spend more time near Toph. Plus, sometimes they asked her to calm down a victim.

She needed–and wanted–to help everyone.


	13. Expectations

Azula began to expect the girl–Lin. Every day, a few hours after her midday meal, she would arrive, staying longer and longer each day. She didn't always come, although Azula certainly didn't _hate_ it when she was there.

Azula never spoke to the girl; in fact, she was barely get a word in, even if she ''had'' been inclined to speak.

She could try and lie to herself, say it mattered not whether the girl came, but no matter how she spun it, there was one small, undeniable truth.

It was nice to know that she wasn't completely forgotten.


	14. Responsible

The first time she saw the person responsible for her incarceration, Azula swore she looked familiar.

She was taken to a room, a short woman following behind. For a reason that Azula couldn't understand, it felt... off. There was nothing special about the woman in particular. She was short and stocky–almost chunky, but not disgustingly so. She obviously worked out, and from the several patches of dirt and way she _exuded_ stubbornness, Azula could only assume she was an earthbender.

She wasn't sure what to feel about that, and didn't even know whether she should feel anything at all.


	15. Liar

It took one question and three of four very angry officers for Azula to realise what they wanted; someone to blame.

When she agreed to orchestrating some kind of crime, a man in front of her (one of several) gave a growl and leaned closer. "It was my friend you killed," he said, slapping her before leaving. Azula sat there, ignoring the stinging sensation as the woman moved closer to handcuff her again. Above her swelling cheek, she still noticed the shiny "Chief" badge pinned to the lapel of the short woman.

"Don't lie next time," was the murmured warning.


	16. Illuminate

The door creaked open slowly. Azula, her hands tightly bound by way of chi-gloves, couldn't summon the fire to illuminate her visitor. By the time he left, and she was pulling her clothes on with trembling fingers, she didn't want to.

If she couldn't see, she could pretend it was a dream–or a nightmare. If she couldn't see, she could fool herself into thinking he hadn't hurt her.

In the dark, though, she couldn't help _but_ think of the reasons why she deserved it. Her mother was right.

She was a monster.


	17. Strength

The girl was back. In equal parts, Azula wanted her there, and wanted her to leave. She wanted comfort, yet she wanted to be left alone. Lin could tell there was something wrong. She could feel it in the air–see it in the other girl's eyes. She had to be strong, because Azula was trying; trying and failing. She thought, in that strange, nonlinear way a six year old processed things, that Azula was similar to her mother. Toph couldn't let other people see her as weak. Except... she broke out of her cage. What about this poor girl? 


	18. Echoes

Sneaking past her mother's office, Lin tip-toed down the stairs. The old stone corridors of the lower cells echoed something fierce, and she was afraid of alerting someone. It was more likely that she would trip than anything else. The swollen cheek on her friend scared her, and she wondered who would hurt such a small person. Why?

She heard and echo down the hall, and squashed herself up against the wall. At least she knew it wasn't Toph.

Toph was distracted by a tall man she had never met; one with a scar on his eye.


End file.
